The Princess
by casharris
Summary: Clarke thinks Bellamy died 5 years ago, and has finally agreed to marry Prince Wells despite the lack of love between them. After being kidnapped she finds herself in the company of three strange men and another in pursuit of them for reasons she doesn't know. Yes this is essentially a Bellarke take on The Princess Bride. Rated T because I don't know what's going on.
1. Chapter 1

Bellamy had been the farm boy for as long as she could remember, yet it had taken her years to realise that every time he said "as you wish" he was really confessing his love for her. In hindsight, it was obvious. How could she not have seen it sooner? His every action, glance and word was a testament to his love for her. She wiped a tear from her eye as she thought of those wasted years spent ordering him around instead of by his side. No matter, she told herself as she adjusted her jewels, looking herself in the eye. You can do this. You will marry Prince Wells and live in comfort as his wife. What more could you want? She almost broke down as she told herself the answer. "Love."

Despite living in a kind of luxury few knew, and almost in spite Prince Wells' objections, she found that there was no greater joy than that of the wind rushing through her hair as she rode her horse beyond the city walls and through the woods. For those brief moments she could forget the last five years spent without the only man she could ever love, and the loveless marriage that awaited her. Florin was a relatively peaceful place, and it was rare that she ever came across anybody at all, let alone anyone with bad intentions, which is perhaps why she stopped her horse when she came across three men, one of whom appeared to be a giant of sorts.  
The first man to speak seemed to be their leader. He was a short, balding man, but his clothing was much finer than that of his companions and he seemed the least brutish. "A word my lady? We are but poor, lost circus performers. Is there a village nearby?"

"There is nothing nearby, not for miles." As the words came out of her mouth the giant started to approach her, and the leader smirked.  
"Then there will be no one to hear you scream." The giant was upon her now, leaving her no time to do anything except open her mouth and scream in terror as his huge hand reached for her throat, and her scream died as a mere yelp.

She woke up on a boat, hands bound, but surprisingly unharmed. The third man carried a thin sword at his hip, and he was making Baldie nervous by looking over his shoulder every two seconds. "Would you stop doing that?"

"You are sure nobody is following us?" His accent sounded strange to her ear, no one she'd ever met spoke quite like him. Undoubtedly Prince Wells would know where he was from, she thought. Just another failing of her common upbringing of course. Despite his assurances, she often wondered how she'd ever be his wife, how she'd ever manage to do the job justice.  
"I already told you, for anyone to be following us would be absolutely and totally inconceivable! No one in Gilder knows we are coming, and no one in Florin could have caught up so quickly." He paused for a moment, leaning back against the wall separating him from the water. Sitting back up again he asked, "Out of curiosity, why do you ask?"

"It's only, I looked behind us, and something was there." With a certain degree of alarm Baldie jumped up to look where the foreigner was. She did a quick survey of the situation and realised there would be no better chance of escape. All three of her kidnappers were looking in the other direction, and chances were she was a better swimmer than the three of those louts. Slipping her hands from the poorly-tied rope around her hands, she made as graceful a dive she could manage in her dress, and swam away as fast as possible.

He could hardly believe what he was seeing. The stupid girl had jumped _out_ of the boat and _into _ eel infested waters. What was she thinking? Couldn't she see his ship coming to her rescue? He was busy trying to find someway to make his cursed ship move faster when he heard the first shriek and saw a ripple in the water next to her. He said her name with a shocked whisper. After all this time could she really die just out of reach from him? "Damn you!" He yelled at his ship. "Can't you move any faster?!"

Over the noise of her own swimming she could hear the distressed and annoyed shouts of her would-be-killers behind her. One arm in front of the other she swam, until another noise stopped her in her tracks. They sounded like the muffled cries of a child, and behind her the leader of those ruffians called. "You hear that your highness? Those are the shrieking eels! And they feed on human flesh." As he spoke something longer than she was slithered past her, giving her a fright and causing her to rethink this method of escape.  
"If you swim back now, I promise no harm will come to you…" the rest of his sentence was lost to her as an eel cried out in front of her, its teeth gleaming white in the moonlight as its mouth opened. For a horrible moment she thought this would be the end, and in that moment, she considered it. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about it before, when she was feeling particularly lonely and missed Bellamy with every fibre of her being, but like every other time, she knew that wasn't what he'd want for her. She'd just reached this conclusion when another eel appeared and started to charge her, its mouth wide open, just as hers was. "I'm sorry Bell-" was her last thought before she was rescued from the water by the same large hand that had incapacitated her early this day.

He'd almost died when he saw the eels surround her, but thankfully her kidnapper's ship seemed to be faster than his own as he saw them pull up to her and a surprisingly large man pull her back onto their deck. He breathed a sigh of relief and set about finding something to eat and a comfy seat; it was going to be a long night.

The ship in pursuit of them had been slowly gaining on them all night, but Baldy seemed to think it was of little importance due to their imminent arrival at the so-called Cliffs of Insanity. She didn't know how they'd gotten their name, but they certainly looked foreboding. The ruins of some grand old castle stood atop a cliff face that appeared to stretch as far as the eye could see in either direction, and she wasn't sure she'd ever seen anything quite so high in her life. Surely they couldn't mean to go up there? It seemed she was wrong, and the Giant, whose name she now knew to be Fezzik, was going to pull them all up. Clearly they'd planned this, as there was a small platform for them to adjust the harness that had been made for three people to attach themselves to him, and as he grabbed the rope with both hands and began the ascent, she could only close her eyes and think happy thoughts as they all hung precariously from Fezzik's body. She could hear them arguing over one thing or another, but she didn't care so long as they made it to the top alive.  
She was a lot more resigned to her captive status now. She didn't know where she was or from whom she could possibly find help, so the best option was to stay with them, not that she was being given many choices. As the giant lead her away she realised the foreign swordsman wasn't coming with them. "Fezzik, why is he staying?"  
"He has to kill the masked man."  
"But why?"  
"He saw you." He said it with such simplicity that she almost forgot to be outraged that someone would be killed her name. Almost.  
"What?! You can't be serious. He doesn't need to die, he hasn't done anything, for all you know he's on his way to help you."  
"Princess, he can't be trusted. And he has seen you, he can't tell others the plan if he's dead."  
She tried to cross her arms with a bit of a huff, only to remember the restraints and increase her own frustration. "Urgh!" She let out a cry that earned her a soft hit across the back of the head from Baldy. Getting the hint, she let herself be lead on.

He seen them begin to climb the rope, and heard their surprise when he did the same; sound travelled well down this cliff face. Then after they'd reached the top, he'd felt the rope start to slacken. Just slightly, but he knew what it meant, and he knew he'd never survive a fall from this height. Just as one of his feet and hands had found purchase, the rope slid away from him and he pressed his body as close as possible to the cliff that could be his doom. "One hand at a time Blake," he told himself. The cliff was almost perfectly vertical, and the ledges he found himself clinging to were like thin slates that didn't leave much room for error.  
"Hello there!" A spaniard called down to him, "Slow going?"  
"Look, I don't know if you've ever scaled a cliff before, but," he said with a grunt, "it's not as easy as it looks, so if you wouldn't mind giving me a moment, that would be much appreciated."

"Okay, sorry." And yet, a moment later, he was back. "I don't suppose you could hurry up a bit?"  
"Well if you're in such a hurry, why don't you lower a rope or something?"  
"I do have a rope, but I don't think you'd accept my help, seeing as I'm only waiting around to kill you." He had to laugh at that, the man was nothing if not honest.  
"That does put a damper on our relationship."  
"What if I promise not to kill you until you reach the top?"  
"Tempting, but you'll just have to wait." He continued his climb, and as he was struggling to reach what looked like a good handhold, the man interrupted him again.  
"What if I give you my word as a Spaniard?"  
He had to laugh at that, "I've known too many Spaniards." He was almost sorry he was going to kill the man.  
"Is there anyway I can convince you? I really do have places to be."  
"Well given that you've already professed a desire to kill me, nothing comes to mind."

As he looked up at the Spaniard, something in the man's gaze made it hard to look away. "I swear on the soul of my father, you will make it to the top alive."  
That, and the aching in his arms, made the decision for him. "Throw me the rope."


	2. Chapter 2

"The things I do for this woman," he was muttering to himself as the rope landed with a dull thud beside him. The effort it took to climb the last part of the cliff was enormous, however, and left no room for thoughts other than one hand in front of the other. Clambering over the top he thanked the man breathlessly, drawing his sword as he took a few deep breaths.  
"Wait, wait, wait, we'll wait until you're ready."

"Again, thank you." He said it as he sat down on a nearby rock and removed the rocks from his boot, listening to the Spaniard across from him.  
"I do not want to pry, but you don't have six fingers on your right hand do you?"  
"Do you always start conversations like this?"  
"My father was killed by a six fingered man," he said, by way of explanation, and in response, Bellamy held up his hand. The Spaniard held his gaze, his eyes filled with sorrow. "My father was a fine craftsman, and when the six fingered man came and asked for a beautiful sword, he accepted the challenge. He slaved a year before it was done."  
"I've never seen its equal," he replied, taking the offered sword delicately and balancing it in his hand. The distribution of weight, the jewelled hilt, he truly hadn't seen such a sword in all his years of piracy.  
The Spaniard continued the story as the sword was handed to him. "Six-fingered man returned and demanded it, but at one-tenth its promised price. Without a word he was slashed through the heart. Naturally I challenged that murderer to a duel, and in return, six-fingered man gave me these scars," and he gestured to the lines that almost ran parallel to his cheekbones.  
"How old were you?"  
"I was eleven. Once I was strong enough, I dedicated my life to studying the art of fencing, so that next time I see him, I will not fail. I will approach him and I will say "hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die."

"You done nothing but study sword play?" Though he was always confident in his abilities, his respect for this man and the knowledge that he was undoubtedly a worthy opponent shook him a little bit. But no, there was no way he could fail now, not with her so close after all these years.  
"Well, it's more a pursuit than a study lately," he replied as he sat next to him. "You see, it's been 20 years and I haven't found him. I just work for Vizzini to pay the bills."  
"Well I hope you find him some day." He said it as he got up, preparing to fight the man.  
"You are ready then?"  
"Whether I am or not, you have been more than fair."  
"You seem a decent fellow, I hate to kill you."  
"You seem a decent fellow, I hate to die." And with that, the deadly game was afoot. Standing across from each other they each held their swords in their left hands. The first blow came from the Spaniard, as he slashed across the space Blake's head was a second before. Circling each other, they were both testing the waters, trying to get an estimation of their opponent. Bellamy copied Inigo's actions, quickly attacking and retreating. Then it truly began in earnest, for they both now understood that the other was no fool, and knew well what they were doing. Backwards and forwards they parried, the metallic clashing and clinging of their swords ringing in the air. Inigo attacked, spinning as he did so and spoke. "You are using Bonettie's defence against me huh?"  
"I thought it fitting, considering the rocky terrain." As if to prove his point he stepped up onto higher ground, and moved swiftly as Inigo followed him.  
"Naturally, you must expect me to attack with Capo Ferro!"  
"Naturally, but I find that Thibault cancels out Capo Ferro, don't you?" While continuing the conversation, they each continued parrying each other's attacks quite neatly, dodging when needed and never dropping the smiles from their faces.  
With a particularly forceful swipe at him, Inigo cried out in triumph, but Bellamy dodged it and jumped back down as Inigo yelled at him from above, "unless the enemy has studied their Agrippa!" He ran, jumped and flipped over him before saying, rather gleefully, "which I have." The fight continued, and this time it was Bellamy with the upper hand, pushing Inigo back towards the edge of the cliff. "You are wonderful" was Inigo's only reaction.  
"Thank you, I have worked hard to become so." As he inched closer and closer to the edge, he admitted that this masked man was better than himself, but he was yet unfazed by that notion.  
Inigo explained, "it's because I know something you don't know. I am not left handed." And, throwing his sword from his left to his right hand, he drove Bellamy up some old stairs of the ruined castle. Bellamy fell back and narrowly dodged the piercing blows of his enemy's sword.  
"You're amazing."  
"I ought to be after 20 years."  
Bellamy was backed against the wall, Inigo pushing him hard against it, and he could feel the old bricks of the castle wall start to move behind him. Grunting, he added, "there is something I should probably tell you. I am not left handed either." And with a forceful push he gained enough space to throw his sword into his other hand. They parried rather quickly until, with a flick of his wrist, he was able to loosen his opponent's grip on his sword and send it flying behind him. Inigo looked down at his hand and back up at Bellamy, shocked. Instead of pushing his advantage, Bellamy let the man jump down and reclaim his sword, his confident smile now gone. Showing off, Bellamy followed him, throwing his sword down so it stuck upright in the dirt, and jumping down with an added flip for flair, before picking up his sword again and preparing to fight.  
The shock was gone from Inigo's face and in its place was awe. "Who are you?"  
"No one of consequence."  
"I must know."  
"You must get used to disappointment."  
"Okay," he shrugged and attacked him with a renewed vigour.  
It was as if the fight had truly begun now that they both had nothing left to hide. They fought, jumping and leaping all over the ruins, lunging forward and back as the fight required, switching hands when needed. Bellamy was, however, by far the better swordsman, and as Inigo was reduced to using both his hands to wildly slash at him, Bellamy drew circles around him, cockily touching his cheek with the flat of his blade before pushing Montoya's sword from his hand and point the tip of his blade at his chest.  
Breathlessly, Inigo sunk to his knees. "Kill me quickly."  
"I would as soon destroy a stain glass window as an artist like yourself. But, I can't have you following me so…" And that was all the spaniard heard before Bellamy knocked him out cold. "Please understand, I hold you in the highest respect."  
"Now, where are you Princess?" He pondered, looking up and around. "Guess it's time to get moving again. She'd better bloody appreciate this." He muttered to himself as he started running after her. Of all the people to fall in love with, it just had to be the one girl the prince would want to marry. Bloody brilliant. "Hold on, love. I'm coming for you."


	3. Chapter 3

Her hands were tied, the giant held her in his arms and in the distance she could see the masked man running over the rolling green hills towards them. "Inconceivable!" The little one shouted, before demanding that she come with him and leaving the giant to kill whomever it was that had been following them. He tugged her along, jerking at the rope that held her hands together, so she jerked back. "Stop it! I'm following you aren't I?" She stopped in her tracks, looking at him defiantly.  
"Well I'm sorry, _your highness_ but you aren't moving fast enough!" And he pulled the rope again as he started his quick little march, but let it hang slackly between them.  
"Thank you." She said it with a small smile in the corner of her mouth. There really was kindness in everyone, you just had to look for it.

He'd seen them standing atop this hill from the distance, and now that he was there, something felt… strange. Running up the last of it, he realised that the boulders in this area would make for the perfect cover before ambushing someone, and, lo and behold, a rock soon smashed against the stone beside him, at head height.  
"I did that on purpose" said a voice he soon saw belonged to the giant. "I didn't have to miss." He said with a shake of his head.  
"I believe you. So what happens now?" He had withdrawn his sword at first sight of the man, but he didn't think it would be of any use any longer. His opponent had another rock in his hand, and he doubted he'd make it a few steps closer before being crushed to death.  
"We face each other as God intended, sportsman-like. No tricks, no weapons, skill against skill alone."  
"You mean, you'll put down your rock and I'll put down my sword and we'll try kill each other like civilised people?"  
He raised the rock higher, preparing to throw with a cheeky grin on his face that reminded Bellamy of a child. "I could kill you now." It was a statement of fact, rather than a threat.  
Lowering his sword her replied, "frankly, I think the odds are slightly in your favour at hand fighting."  
"It's not my fault being the biggest and the strongest. I don't even exercise." He carelessly tossed the rock away, and they each lowered into a fighters stance.  
Bellamy warily approached the giant, before running straight at him in a futile attempt to tackle him. The giant seemed amused at the sight of Bellamy try to sway him. "Look, are you just fiddling around with me or what?"  
"I want you to feel you are doing well." Replied the giant. "I hate for people to die embarrassed." Bellamy saw his huge arms come towards him in a hug like motion, ducked, and rolled between his legs to stand behind him. "You're quick!" He exclaimed.  
"It's a good thing, too."  
"Why do you wear a mask? Is it because you were burned by acid or something like that?" All the while he menacingly approached Bellamy, arms at the ready.  
"No, no, it's just so terribly comfortable." He dodged a punch left. "I think everyone will be wearing them in the future." He dodged a punch right, then ducked slightly and ran past him to jump onto the rock behind the giant, and quickly onto his back, like a baby monkey on the back of its parent. The giant's huge hands couldn't reach him there, but Bellamy's smug grin lasted until the giant realised he could crush him between himself and a rock. He held on tightly though, and as the giant gave excuses as to why Bellamy was beating him, he slowly choked the man until he couldn't stand any longer, and fell to the ground with Bellamy still on top of him.

He rolled the man over and checked for a heartbeat. Pleased to find it still beating solidly he said, "I do not envy you the headache you will have when you awake, but in the mean time, rest well and dream of large women." And he was off again, chasing this woman who had proved herself unworthy, but whom he loved still.

He'd just run through a copse of trees and was running up a hill into a paddock when he saw a short, balding man holding a stiletto knife at the juncture between Clarke's head and neck. She was blindfolded, and holding her head as high and far away from the knife as possible. Strangely, the two of them were sitting at a makeshift table with food and goblets in front of them. If it weren't for the knife, blindfold, and utter repugnance of the man, the whole scene would have appeared rather romantic. "So, it is down to you, and it is down to me." Warily he approached them, until the man said "if you wish her dead, by all means, keep moving forward."

Now he spread his arms apart and raised them in an act of surrender. "Let me explain-"  
"There is nothing to explain, you are trying to kidnap what I have already stolen."  
"Perhaps, an arrangement could be reached?"  
"There will be no arrangements." He placed his hand around her forearm, pulling her closer before adding "and you're killing her" and pushing the knife a little harder into her skin.  
That stopped Bellamy in his tracks, and he rethought his strategy. "Well if there can be no arrangement, then we are at an impasse."  
"I'm afraid so. I can't compete with you physically, and you're no match for my brains."  
"You're that smart?"  
"Let me put it this way: have you ever heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates? Morons."  
"Really? In that case, I challenge you to a battle of the wits."  
"For the Princess?" In response, Bellamy nodded his head. "To the death?!" He nodded his head again. "I accept." And just like that, the knife was removed from Blake's throat and put in its scabbard.  
"Good. Then pour the wine." He said as he approached them and sat across the rock-turned-table. After the wine was poured he pulled a small, thin vial from his pocket and passed it to the man across from him. "Inhale this but do not touch."  
"I smell nothing."  
"What you do not smell is called Iocane powder. It is odourless, tasteless, dissolves instantly in liquid and is among the more deadly poisons known to man." After saying this, Bellamy reached for the two wine glasses, turned around, and a short while later replaced the glasses on the table, his vial of poison now empty. "Alright, where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when we both drink and find out who is right, and who is dead."

Listening to Baldie babble on about which glass contained the poison was enough to make her wish she'd merely been killed whilst horse riding instead of kidnapped. She could hear it was coming to an end though. The strange voice, the one that must belong to the masked man, was growing tired of Baldie's attempts at logic and trying to speed along a decision.  
"Look over there!" Baldie cried out. Oh, if only I could, she thought to herself.  
"What, where?"  
"Oh, nothing, sorry." He said it as he snickered.  
"What's so funny?"  
"I'll tell you in a minute, but first, let's drink! You from your glass, and me from mine."  
There was a pause as they both drank, but it was the masked man who spoke first. "You guessed wrong."  
"You only think I guessed wrong, that's what's so funny! I switched glasses when your back was turned! Ha ha you fool! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders! The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well known is this: never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!" And he erupted into more atrocious laughter, before suddenly stopping, and, by the sounds of things, falling down dead.

He looked down at the dead Sicilian without a hint of regret. Whilst the other two men he'd fought had a sense of honour, this man clearly didn't, and he certainly hadn't gained his respect.  
He moved over to Clarke and removed her blindfold. "Who are you?" She asked as he undid the rope around her hands.  
"I am no one to be trifled with," he glanced up at her before looking back down at the task before him. "That is all you ever need know."  
"To think, all that time it was your cup that was poisoned."  
"They were both poisoned." He knew that he said it a little too gleefully, but he was happy that his trick had worked, and more than a little pleased with himself. He pulled her to her feet, and still holding her hands added "I spent the last two years building up an immunity to Iocane powder." And, taking her by her hand, he lead her away from the scene of the crime and across the rugged terrain of Gilder.


	4. Chapter 4

They were running over grass covered rocks, when he suddenly tugged then pushed her against one of them, releasing her hand as he instructed her to take a moment and catch her breath.  
"If you'll release me, whatever you ask for ransom, you'll get it, I promise you!"  
It was with a smirk that he laughed (rather forcedly) and replied "and what is that worth? The promise of a woman. You're very funny, Princess."  
"I was giving you a chance. It does not matter where you take me, there is no greater hunter than Prince Wells. He can track a falcon on a cloudy day, he can find you."  
"You think your dearest love can save you?"  
"I never said he was my dearest love! And yes, he will save me. That I know."  
The masked man had been leaning against a rock in front of her, but at this he started toward her. "You admit to me you do not love your fiancé."  
"He knows I do not love him." He was standing in front of her now, forcing her to look up at him.  
"Are not capable of love is what you mean to say."  
The old hurt rose up in her as she stood to face him, and looking him steadily in the eye replied, "I have loved more deeply than a killer like yourself could ever dream!"

He watched her as she stood to match him, and as she insulted him with her words of love a fury like no other found its way to his hand and threatened to hit her. As she flinched away from him, he managed to stop himself but coldly told her that that would be the last time his hand would stay if she caused it to fly up again. "From where I come from, there are consequences when a woman lies." And with that the conversation was over so he took her hand and they were running again.

She had been pondering the identity of the masked man when he had thrown her against a rock, yet again, and given her a moment to rest. "I know who you are, your cruelty reveals everything. You're the Dread Pirate Roberts, admit it!"  
Her words did not seem to perturb him much, he merely bowed before her (his first courteous act since their meeting) and said, "with pride. What can I do for you?"  
"You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces."  
He slowly shook his head back and forth, making that patronising "tut" sound she'd heard parents use before dolling out some punishment or other. "Hardly complimentary, Princess. Why loose your venom on me?"  
"You killed my love."

"It is possible, I kill a lot of people." Walking behind her, he found a log to lean against as he continued his inquiry. "Another prince, like this one? Ugly, rich and scabby?"  
She turned to face him, eyes like thunder and a stubborn set to her jaw "No." She said defiantly. "A farm boy, poor, poor and perfect." She started to drift away from him as she looked down and continued her description of this love of hers. "With the most gorgeous brown eyes you'd ever seen." She seemed to pull herself back to reality as she once again accused him of murder. "On the high seas your ship attacked! And the Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners."  
"Can't afford to make exceptions. Once word has got out that a pirate has gone soft people begin to disobey you and then it's all work, work work, all the time!"  
"You mock my pain!" The stark pain in her voice made his heart twinge a little, which in turn steeled his resolve.  
"Life is pain highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something." She looked away from him as he got up and began to tell her a story. "I remember this farm boy of yours, I think. 5 years ago? Does it bother you to hear?"  
"Nothing you can say can upset me."  
"He died well. That should please you. No bribe attempts or blubbering. He simply said please, please I need to live. It was the please that caught my memory. I asked him what was so important to him. "True love," he replied." Clarke had turned her head back towards him, and was now staring at him with as little emotion she could muster, though the pain of the story was clear to him. "And then he spoke of a girl of surpassing beauty and faithfulness. I can only assume he meant you. You should bless me for destroying him before he found out what you really are."  
She stood to meet him, "and what am I?!"  
"Faithfulness he talked of madame, your enduring faithfulness!" Taking a step towards her he continued his tirade. "Now tell me truly, when you found out he was gone, did you get engaged to your prince at the same hour or did you wait a whole week out of respect for the dead?!"  
"You mocked me once, never do it again! I died that day!" Over her rant he could hear something in the distance, and turned to see a row of horsemen galloping over a hill just across the valley. Seeing her opportunity for vengeance, Clarke told him he could die too for all she cared, and pushed him down the hill. She watched him tumble, with satisfaction and a slight sense of horror, until he yelled back "as you wish!"  
Just hearing the phrase brought her back to all the other times in her life when she'd heard that said, and the most important day when she'd realised Bellamy was saying one thing, but what he really meant was 'I love you.' Looking up in sudden realisation at the man rolling down into the valley below she whispered "what have I done?" There was only one thing for it, she had to go after him. And she threw herself down the slope, and began tumbling after the only love of her life.

He was rubbing his head, checking for injury when he saw her turn towards him, still laying flat on her back. He crawled on his side to meet her, asking if she could move before cradling her head in the crook of his arm and resting his other hand on her waist. He'd been so angry at her, he'd felt so betrayed that she could move on from their love, as if he'd been nothing to her. But it was clear that she loved him, too. Why else would anyone throw themselves down a hill after someone they'd been trying to kill only moments before?  
With wonder in her eyes she replied, "you're alive! If you want, I can fly." Then she pulled him down to her and wrapped him in her arms, holding him tight and marvelling in this dream reality.  
He pulled away from her, and said rather softly, "I told you I would always come for you, why didn't you wait for me?" It was as if all the harshness, coldness from before had been lost along with his mask on the way down.  
"Well, you were dead." She was finding it hard to keep a coherent thought, much less speak fluently. His hand was caressing her cheek most gently and all she wanted was to stop talking, hold him close and never let him go again.  
"Death can not stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while."  
"I will never doubt again."  
"There will never be a need." And he lowered his head to hers, brushed her hair back and kissed her slowly, as if he had all the time in the world to do it. His hand ran down from her hair to her waist as her arms wrapped themselves around him and ran over his back, marvelling at the changes his body had been through in their time apart. His back was harder, wider, and she could feel the muscles there moving as he did. She was trying to pull him closer when he suddenly pulled away from her, as breathless as she was, but looking rather more concerned. "Bellamy, what is it?"  
"I thought I heard something." He looked around, then stood up, seemingly reminded that they were being chased by a great hunter. "We have to go. Your fiancé is still looking for us." He pulled her to her feet, and they were running. Again. She had to admit to getting rather tired of it, though now she knew she was with her true love again, she didn't mind it so much.


	5. Chapter 5

They were racing along the floor of the ravine when he heard the sound of horses to his left. "Aha! Your pig fiancé is too late! A few more steps, and we'll be safe in the fire swamp."  
"Bellamy, we'll never survive in there."  
"There's a first time for everything, princess." He gave her a challenging grin before tugging her arm and running toward the tree line ahead of them.

Everything about this forest was dark. The trees grew tall and blocked any light from reaching its roots below, the air smelled rotten, and there were strange sounds that seemed to come from all directions. All in all, it was a truly terrifying place, and Clarke suddenly understood why no one had ever survived this place.  
"Well, it's not that bad." She heard from her right. She slowly turned to look at him, unsure of what to say but knowing that her face was saying it all. Not bad? Not. Bad? The place was the stuff of nightmares, and she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.  
"I'm not saying I'd want to holiday here, but the trees aren't so bad, and you wouldn't have many visitors." Bellamy seemed to get the message because he scrunched his face up as she rolled her eyes as if to say "Are you kidding me?!" And he began to lead her through the swamp again.

Slowly the walked under trees and through their roots, pausing only when they heard a new kind of sound. It was as if the trees were sneezing, or breathing heavily and rustling the fallen leaves beneath, but onwards they walked, until the swamp finally lived up to its name.  
She screamed as a burst of fire shot up just in front of her, setting her dress alight. Within seconds Bellamy had pulled her to the side, sat her down, and stamped out the fire. Looking tenderly into her eyes he pulled her up. "Well, that was an adventure. Were you singed?"  
She shook her head, still a bit panicky from the fire. Usually she was much more prepared to look after herself but fire… That was something else entirely. "You?" She meekly inquired.  
"Oh no…" He said it with so much self-assurance and manly bravado that she couldn't help but smile a little. As they moved on, they heard the same sound again, and this time, Bellamy quickly had his arms around her, and swung her around him so that she had moved away from the direction the sound was coming from, and was standing behind him when a second flame erupted from the earth beneath them.  
"Well, one thing I will say, the fire swamp certainly keeps you on your toes." As he pulled her behind him to keep walking, she couldn't help but stare daggers into the back of his head. His… his _jovial_ attitude about their predicament was _infuriating._ Why couldn't he take this seriously and behave like they were constantly seconds away from death, as they were? This whole situation was absurd, and yet he kept smiling and acting as if they were merely taking a stroll down a sandy beach.  
She'd managed to keep all of these thoughts at bay when he continued down the same vein. "This will all be but a happy memory. Roberts' ship, _Revenge, _is anchored on the other side of all this, and, as you know, I'm Captain Roberts." He said it with a mixture of pride and cheer.  
Curiosity outweighed her frustration as she asked how that worked, given that the name Roberts had been feared the last 20 years, almost their entire lives.  
He almost mechanically moved her out of the way of an explosion, then started his story. "What I told you about saying please was true, as did my description of your beauty." It was a good thing he was focused on the path ahead of them, because hearing that from him brought a blush to her cheeks and a smile to her lips that he would surely exploit somehow. "He made me an offer. I'd be his valet, though he warned me that he'd most likely choose to kill me in the morning. For three years he said that. "Good night, good work, sleep well, I'll most likely kill you in the morning." I learned anything anyone would teach me. Fighting, fencing, you know, I have a rather wide skill set now." He looked at her with a gleam in his eye that made her heart quicken. "Eventually, Roberts and I became friends, and then it happened; he told me his secret. He was so rich that he wanted to retire." Bellamy scooped her up in his arms, and hers went around his neck as he walked across a fallen tree that made a convenient bridge "I am not the dread pirate Roberts. My name is Ryan" he said. "I inherited the ship from the previous pirate Roberts, just as you will inherit it from me. The real Roberts has been retired 15 years, and is living like a king in Patagonia." Then he explained that name is the important thing in inspiring appropriate levels of fear. No one would surrender to the dread pirate Bellamy. So we took a new crew, he stayed on for a while as first mate, taking care to call me Roberts, and once everyone believed the lie, he left the ship and I've been Roberts ever since."  
He put her down and looked her in the eye. "Now that we're together though, I'll retire and hand the ship over to someone else." He paused before adding, "is everything clear to you?" If she was being honest, she'd gotten side tracked when he'd picked her up and it was like she could feel every muscle in his body as he carried her across that tree. It was all she could do now to resist throwing her arms around him and holding him close. She was staring at his face, taking in all the changes, the defined jawline, the stubble that was starting to be visible as the day progressed, the more baritone timbre to his voice when she realised he'd asked her a question. She nodded slowly, hoping it was the right answer, and started to walk toward what looked like a clearing ahead. She hadn't even taken two steps when she suddenly fell into darkness, screaming as whatever this was engulfed her, and Bellamy was left behind.

One second she was there, and a scream later, she had disappeared into what looked like a pit of sand. If there was anything the last five years as a pirate had taught him, it was to always keep your cool and look for a solution to the problem. Firstly, there was no way he was leaving her down there. Where she went, he went. So the only other thing to do was figure out how to get back up. Drawing his sword, he found a strong looking vine, cut it, and dove in after her. The sand filled every crevice and prevented breathing, but he found his way to Clarke and pulled her to him, slowly lifting them out. His muscles strained, but the vine held firm, until finally they were able to reach for the safety of hard land, both coughing and spluttering. She was still coughing and gasping for breath once he'd recovered. Crawling toward her, he held her to him, thankful that they'd survived that, that this wasn't the end for them after so many years of waiting. That was when he spotted a rather large rat looking creature resting between two trees slightly above them, then another just to their left.  
"We'll never succeed, we may as well die here" Clarke sobbed.  
Pulling her face from his shoulder her stroked her hair back behind her ear and contradicted her. "No, we've already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the fire swamp?" He got up, careful to keep her from turning around and seeing the beasts. "One, the flame swamp. No problem, there's a popping sound before each that sounds before each one. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to find, so we can avoid that, too."  
"But what about the R.O.U.S.s?"  
"Rodents of Unusual Size? I don't think they exist." It was a lie, he'd clearly seen them earlier, and as if to spite him for trying to keep her from worrying, he was knocked to the ground almost immediately after saying it, and smothered by one of the furry, ferocious beasts.


End file.
